


Fifth Pass

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Background Relationships, Dooku/Jocasta, Implied Rex/Fives, Multi, Obi-Wan/Luminara, but that's easy to miss, just fooling around with ideas, though that last might include sifo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16059515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: As Fifth Pass is on them, the Weyrs acquire some interesting riders and shuffle things around.





	1. Accidental Search

**Author's Note:**

> Well, having done the fusion the other way around, here is the dragon-riding clones and Jedi fic.

_Fifth Pass, Turn 11_

Qui-Gon stroked a hand along Yeneth's neck, lazily flying low over the great plains at Telgar. He'd needed time to think, space to breath away from the Weyr. Obi-Wan was a fine young wingleader, up and coming, but the news that their Weyrwoman was throwing the next flight open for Leadership had him disquieted. Qui-Gon had no interest in leading, never had, but he had hopes for his young friend, Obi-Wan.

Was Obi-Wan ready? He was one of the strongest bronze riders in the Weyr, and he had a friendship with Luminara, the rider of the queen most likely to rise next, but would it be enough to see Obi-Wan into the Leadership?

Qui-Gon hoped so. Obi-Wan had the right drive and dedication to dragon and human to make a good Leader to see them through the rest of the Pass.

Yeneth hummed into the bond, listening to his partner's thoughts. ::Marieth is a good queen, but too tempestuous to fly. And I do not wish to deal with all my brothers during Fall. We will go to High Reaches to visit Shalbeth's rider and Tianeth's, when the time comes?:: 

Their path curved nearer to the great Hold, as Qui-Gon agreed that a visit in High Reaches' summer with Eeth and Adi sounded pleasant to him as well. They were discussing the likelihood of snow still on the seven spindles when Yeneth suddenly veered hard towards a field. There were tiny specks in it, workers... weeding? Probably. Too early for harvesting. But what was his dragon paying attention to?

Faintly, he heard 'Yes, snow is solid water... fun to play in...' but who was Yeneth speaking _to_? ::My heart?:: 

::There is one who heard me. Asked what snow was.:: Yeneth let his attention scour the field, trying to find a spot closest to the high voice that had been so curious.

Qui-Gon was startled at the thought. There had not been a queen rider with the ability to hear all dragons in more than an Interval. If he remembered correctly, Bastila had been the last. Yaddle had been able to hear all the queens, but she was gone. The ability would be quite a gift to bring to the weyr, if he and Yeneth could find the child, and the mother was amenable. 

Yeneth dropped down to the edge of the field, and a small child -- barely taller than Yeneth's paw if the claw-tips were on the ground -- trotted out of a row of plants, staring up wide-eyed. Drudge's clothes hung startlingly neatly from slim shoulders, and Qui-Gon wondered at that. Yeneth put his head down, jaw touching the ground, and one green eye studied the child curiously. 

"You -- you really heard me," the child said, and Qui-Gon blinked, because the voice sounded almost boyish, rather than the girl's lilt he'd expected. "I hear all of you, but everyone but Mom thinks I'm lying. But you really did." 

::Yes,:: Yeneth agreed, deliberately including him this time, Qui-Gon thought. ::This is my rider, Qui-Gon.:: 

"Hello, Rider Qui-Gon," the child said, though the gaze was much more wary, now, than the awe Yeneth had created. "My name is Anakin." 

"Hello, Anakin," Qui-Gon said, slipping from Yeneth and crouching to be more on a level with the child. "Is your mother or father among the other workers? I'd very much like to speak to them." 

How was such a gifted child a drudge and hidden from previous Searches? How was it a boy? As far as Qui-Gon knew, that had never happened. Even the extremely rare male queen riders had never had that gift.

"Mom is," Anakin agreed with a nod, still staring up at the dragon rider that had left his dragon's back to come down. "I can go get her. ...you won't go away?" 

::We will not,:: Yeneth agreed. 

Anakin nodded at that, and turned to run back into the field. He came back out only a few moments later, holding a woman that was similarly neat by one hand. Her drudge's clothes were heavily stained and worn, but they were blatantly as clean and well-kept as she could make them. "Rider Qui-Gon," Anakin chirped, "this is my mother, Shmi." 

Qui-Gon had stood and leaned back against Yeneth's shoulder, but on their approach, straightened and stood waiting with the dignity a rider typically exuded. 

"Hello, milady," he said warmly, as his mind ticked over the ramifications. Depending on the contract she was under to her holder, he could offer her a place as well, if she was not tied to the local hold… Southern Telgar was closest of the named minor holds he recalled. "Your son here caught my Yeneth's attention. That is most unusual for any person, let alone a boy child."

"He is a most unusual child to begin with," Shmi said in a guarded voice. "But yes, he hears the dragons. He is not, however, supposed to intrude on them," she chided, just a little, at her son.

"Mo~om," Anakin protested.

Yeneth rumbled and told Qui-Gon steadily, ::Not an imposition. Tell the mother.:: 

Qui-Gon obediently repeated his dragon's words, smiling at Shmi, trying for disarming and calming. "And he is right, we were flying for pleasure, not with intent. It is no trouble." 

Anakin beamed triumphantly. "See, Mom? Yeneth doesn't mind. Why is it so strange to hear the dragons? I don't remember ever not hearing them... I feel the watch-whers, too, but they don't talk, really." 

Shmi gave her son an exasperated but fond look, before focusing on Qui-Gon for his answer.

"Few people are capable of hearing one dragon," he began. "Those tend to become riders. To hear them all, without trying? Is unique. And in all the history I know, only a very few who have ridden gold, women all of them, have heard all dragons without trying.

"A dragon may choose to make themself heard by a person, but that too is rare, as they are mostly content with just their rider and other dragons in their minds."

Shmi nodded once at hearing it explained, refusing to be overawed by a rider or a dragon as she calculated what this could mean for her son. "Would that mean my son should be in a Weyr?" she asked boldly, because he deserved so much more than this drifting Holdless life as drudges-for-hire.

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied, and Yeneth rumbled counterpoint agreement, "he should be. And a boy of so few Turns should not be without his mother. Who would I need to speak with, to arrange it?" 

He would not have the Weyr accused of theft, after all, and this clear-eyed, intelligent woman and child should be highly valued in comparison to the usual unfortunates that could do no better than a drudge's lot.

"We were hired by Holder Watto to clear his fields. He has provisionally stated that a place for us may exist as the season changes, if we prove industrious enough." Shmi met the man's eyes clearly. "Neither of us shirk from hard work, so we know how to be useful."

Holdless. Not even drudges with a safe place, but holdless… that hit Qui-Gon even harder in his perceptions of the unusual boy.

"That is well," Qui-Gon replied, "because there is no shortage of work in any weyr, but it can at least be work suited to your strengths and ages." 

Holder Watto... not a name he was familiar with, but minor holders tended to be much the same across Telgar. "How long have you worked for him already?" 

That would tell him what it would cost to bring them away (how much the holder thought he had used on sheltering and feeding them), and the quartermaster would know if he had overpaid, and deal with it in the tithe. 

"We came with a caravan in the fourth month and stayed on then as he had lost three workers to a Thread burrow," she said neutrally, refusing to condemn the holder for not having supplied adequate tools for after-Fall, or the Weyr for not having been on hand soon enough.

Qui-Gon nodded, though the mention of a burrow with multiple dead made him recall mention of the Holder. Weyrwoman Jocasta had only had acerbic commentary on him, and her queen had given them all a strong image of the hold. "Easy enough to settle, then." 

This was going to be unpleasant. But he was a bronze rider, a wingleader, and this was a minor holder. "Come, lady Shmi, Anakin. Yeneth..." his bronze crouched low, much as he could, and Qui-Gon put the boy forward on his neck, then swung up. He reached down for her, after, and she settled behind him. He handed straps back to her once his own were settled. 

"Anakin, Yeneth may be able to show you _between_ , so that you are not frightened. Lady Shmi, it will be darker than a cave with all the glows dead, and bitter cold. It lasts but three breaths at the most, and we will be out again." 

"I'm not afraid!" Anakin declared boldly.

"Ani, how can you know? It is new, and you should listen to the rider and dragon." Shmi kept her voice calm, settled firmly on the dragon, and nodded once. "We are ready," she told Qui-Gon, certain that Anakin was firmly in place.

"Let's go, Yeneth," Qui-Gon said, and his partner leapt from the track, throwing his body up into the air and into flight. Anakin's shriek of glee made him smile as they climbed to an appropriate height for him to give the image to take them _between_. He could have straight-lined it, of course, they weren't at all far from the hold, but... he wanted to see how the boy did. 

Yeneth was laughing at him when they came back out of _between_ , and Anakin in front of him was, apparently, questioning Yeneth in fascination, rather than fear or dismay. 

::This boy was made for the weyr,:: Yeneth told him, between laughs. 

+++ 

It had, in fact, been unpleasant, and Qui-Gon was holding on to his temper with the barest edges of control as he hung the two small sacks of possessions the two had brought on the caravan. He handed Anakin up again, brought Shmi up behind him, and as soon as they were secure said, "Take us home, Yeneth," aloud. 

Bronze wings beat hard, climbing as Yeneth growled imprecations against the holder in his mind, and as soon as they could, Telgar Weyr spread out under them in all of its beauty. 

"Oh," Shmi breathed softly, taking in the caldera, the hunting grounds, the Lake… and all the dragons on ledges and the ground alike, especially the weyrlings off to one side sleeping off their latest meals.

"It's so big," Anakin said, actually awed by the sight.

"So it is," Qui-Gon agreed, smiling in amusement at the sound of awe in the boy's voice. "We have almost six hundred dragons, counting the weyrlings and the disabled, and I think easily that many in the Lower Caverns that support us. Welcome to the Weyr, both of you." 

"We will do all we can to learn the ways here," Shmi said, pitching her voice to carry over his shoulder.

"So many happy voices," Anakin said, listening to the dragon gossip.

Several of the dragons out basking in the summer warmth on their weyr ledges lifted their heads, and Qui-Gon felt Anakin shrink back against him a little, before Yeneth rumbled and everyone not a bronze put their head down again, necks and postures looking a little sheepish. 

"All right, Anakin?" 

"I -- never so many at once?" he answered, his voice a little faint from multiple dragons expressing interest all at once. "I'm too little to be on a ground crew." 

The words had the tone of something he had heard many times, and wasn't very fond of, even though he knew it was true. 

"You can get to know them, little by little, Ani," Shmi reassured her son. "Rider Qui-Gon will see to that."

"So I will," Qui-Gon agreed, "and every weyr has a copy of everything written by the last All-Hearing Weyrwoman, Bastila. We'll look through it to learn how to keep them from being such a commotion to you." 

"It's… not bad?" Anakin said. "Just a lot."

Shmi knew her son was trying to be brave, trying to push himself to be alright, so that nothing endangered their new lives as something other than Holdless. She would never get over the irony of producing a child who could hear all dragons, when her parents had denied Thread would return, and been removed from the small hold they maintained for it.

Qui-Gon chuckled, "I am sure it is a lot, indeed. I have read a little of those stories. Even with a queen to help, it was sometimes overwhelming." 

::We will be careful of the boy,:: Yeneth said, as he circled down and landed in the bowl, giving sharp looks all around from yellow-flecked green eyes. Shmi slid down from behind Qui-Gon, with his help, and once he was down he lifted Anakin down once again. 

Now, to find the Headwoman, before anyone could interfere, or misinterpret. 

The entrance to the Lower Caverns was just to the side, and Qui-Gon ushered the pair in, then past the tables back to the night hearth that was before the main kitchens. The boy that was there both sized up Anakin and gave directions to the inner workrooms, to find the Headwoman. 

The boy was correct, and the party of three found themselves under the eye of the woman that kept Telgar running smoothly, Taunwe.

"We have two new additions," Qui-Gon said to get the attention of the tall, graceful woman. "I believe the boy is meant for the Sands when he is of age, and the lady should be contracted, as she is his mother.

"The boy is Anakin, and the lady is Shmi," he added to introduce them. "My new friends, this is Taunwe, who keeps everything running for us here."

"Greetings, Anakin, Shmi, and welcome," Taunwe said, dipping her head in greeting. "You're young for a Candidate, but the dragons know, we're told. Are either of you hungry, or thirsty, before you and I, Shmi, speak of what your capabilities are?" 

Anakin shook his head, looking up at his mother after he did. He was trying, so hard, not to be overwhelmed by the talking going on, but it was softer than those first few moments had been. "No, lady, thank you." 

"Nor I," Shmi replied, "but thank you." She was wary, even within a Weyr, of accepting anything until everything was settled out. 

Qui-Gon frowned, but said nothing yet. They'd been working when he found them, and there certainly had not been food or drink involved at the holder's.

"I thought it would be good to allow them to stay together for now, in one of the Lower apartments, as Anakin is not yet of age for the Sands," Qui-Gon said. "But time with the weyrharper for him is needed, and he should have the shielding afforded by the thicker cavern walls down here.

"Anakin is very sensitive to the dragons, Taunwe, so interior chores would be good, until he adapts."

Taunwe nodded. "Leave it to me, bronze rider. Now go, and leave them to my care." She moved to lead the way to her office. "This way, please."

Qui-Gon knew better than to argue with Taunwe, and was well aware he had somewhere else he needed to be before his father or the Weyrwoman had to come looking for him. Maybe he could escape without an argument this time?


	2. Unafraid, Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plo finds Ahsoka.

Plo made a habit of paying attention to Jageth's habits when they did day-after-Fall sweeps, as it often saved him the need to do formal Searches later. As they flew over one of the smaller holds in the central part of the island, isolated by all but one trade path, Jageth began twitching his tail and wingtips, reacting to someone below.

::Found someone, have you?:: he asked his blue, knowing it for those instincts tickling him.

::Yes.:: 

By mutual consent, the blue began to spiral down, landing on an outcropping of basalt that offered a place for him to curl in the sun, allowing Plo to go be social and find the likely Candidate.

"Greetings, Rider," the holder said, having hurried as soon as they noted the blue coming down to them. His eyes flicked Plo's shoulder knots, confirming he was Istan. "There weren't burrows, were there?" he quickly asked. "Or does the main hold need the medicinals we produce quickly?"

Plo shook his head, a smile on his scarred face, scars from a bad Thread clump when he'd still been at High Reaches. Fortunately, the freezing air and Jageth's quick reflexes had saved him then.

"Actually, Holder… Buryn, is it not? My Jageth has detected a potential Candidate in your hold. I ask if I may Search?"

"It would be an honor, Rider," holder Buryn answered, bowing to the rider and dragon alike. "There has not been a dragonrider from here before, I don't believe. But you are welcome." 

"It is most appreciated. If I can mingle with the young of your hold? We prefer eighteen Turns or less, given dragon lifespan and maturity rate." Plo let the holder lead him after explaining the guidelines, paying attention to the flow of people around him as he interacted with them. The best candidates were the ones he noticed, once Jageth had twigged to the possibility, which was one reason they were a preferred Searching pair. 

However, as Plo moved through the people, he was disappointed as none of the people seemed to catch his attention in quite that way. Holder Buryn mentioned some that were out gathering the plants they cultivated for the Healer Hall, and others were away hunting, but overall, Plo felt that maybe his blue was losing his touch.

"I am sure we will return after next Fall, to meet the others," Plo said as he and Buryn made their way back to find Jageth asleep in the sun, delaying the teasing 'false alarm' Plo had meant to send him.

"We will be glad to see you, Rider Plo," Buryn answered, smiling at him. "Can we offer you anything, as the dragon is resting?" 

"Perhaps I sh-- "

Plo's voice tapered off as he caught a glimpse of a strange lump in the curve of his dragon's tail, slowly discerning that the lump was none other than a small child, just as asleep as the dragon and yet… Plo could feel her potential. There was a warmth radiating off of her he associated with most other riders, and she had had so little fear of Jageth that she had boldly claimed him for a napping partner.

"Holder Buryn, I think I may not need a return trip, if the family of that small one is available," he said quietly. "I have seen very few among hold or craft who would be so bold," he added, as the child tilted her head in her sleep, showing little blue ribbons woven into her dark, tightly curling hair.

"Her mother is out, I know," Buryn replied, "but her father should be here. I will go find him. Her name, if she wakes, is Ahsoka, Rider." 

He strode off, and came back shortly, another man following him. "This is Kian, Ahsoka's father," Buryn introduced, even as he marveled a little that the rider had merely found a spot to sit, to watch the peaceful scene in front of him.

"Greetings, Kian," Plo said, rising to face him. "It seems your little one has the potential to ride. I understand her mother is gone, and so I will wait for you to be able to discuss with her… but I am asking if she may come to the Weyr. It does not have to be immediate, although… many children do benefit from living there, when they already show signs of being able to ride."

Kian gave him a very startled look, his eyes searching for his daughter -- and then he found her... asleep in the curl of the dragon's tail! "Rider, I -- " 

"No," Plo said, hearing the apology on only the honorific, "there is no need to apologize. Rather, I am most pleased to find a child so unafraid of my partner, Kian. Truly." 

"...as you say, Rider," Kian replied, still uncertain but subsiding. He hadn't been raised to argue with a dragonrider; his parents had sense and he tried to. "I'll not make a decision about our daughter without my wife, no," he agreed, "but my thought is that we'll say yes. She's a good girl, but... bold, and energetic. Different than our sons. 

"You truly think she could be a dragonrider?" 

"I do indeed." Plo gave the child a fond smile, before focusing again on the father. "How many days until I return to discuss this with you and her mother?"

"Raza is away on a gathering, but should return in three days at most," Buryn said for Kian, understanding that this was a momentous point for all of them. Their hold, in all memory, had never given a rider to Pern.

"Shall I set my return for a sevenday, or longer? Or you could fly a message pennant and the sweepriders will check in," Plo offered.

"A sevenday would be more than generous, Rider," Kian answered, looking at his sleeping daughter with a wondering shake of his head. 

Buryn understood Kian's wonderment, even as the child in question awakened from the attention. She uncurled, stretching out before she ran a gentle hand over the blue dragon's flanks, and then noticed everyone.

"Hi!" She ran over to her father after gently climbing out of the blue's tail loop, and then looked at the tall man with the scarred face. "Warm. Nice nap."

Plo smiled at the child, and crouched down to be more on her level. "I am glad you had a good nap with Jageth, little Ahsoka. He doesn't have such small company for his naps very often. I am Plo." 

"Hi." She reached out to touch his face, before Kian could stop the inquisitive touching as rude. "Rider. Dragon." She nodded as if something had clicked into place in her head. 

"Little one," Kian said softly to try and get her to stop being so forward.

"Yes," Plo agreed, unconcerned by the reach, and he smiled at her. "I am Jageth's rider. Speaking of whom... wake up, my heart, and see the candidate you found." He had brushed the same words across the bond between them, soft and affectionate. 

Jageth's great eyes opened, his head turning ever so slowly toward all of the beings present… and Ahsoka let out a squeal of delight, running over to press against the great head, just back of the jaw, so she could pet along his face too.

Buryn gasped, and Kian went tense; surely this was a step too far?

"Rider, I -- "

"No," Plo shook his head as he stood again, looking in utter delight at her complete lack of fear, "no, holders, it is well. Jageth does not mind, and I take no insult in her honest joy. He loves children, and often has one of mine cuddling him. 

"It would be different if she were pawing at him like a spit canine, or trying to tag him on a dare."

"As you will, Rider," Buryn said.

"We will keep this in mind, Rider Plo," Kian promised, taking away the idea of a talk with his daughter on boundaries, as he did not wish to endanger the traits the rider was looking for.

Ahsoka finished loving on her nap buddy and came back, her big blue eyes looking up at Plo with warmth. "Jageth smells good." She then threw her arms up at her father, who picked her up to his hip, showing an indulgent soft smile as he did.

"I think so, too," Plo agreed with her, and reached out to take one small, dark hand for a moment. "I will see you again soon, little Ahsoka. But it is time for Jageth and I to go. My thanks for your kindness and welcome, holders." 

He stepped back to Jageth's side then, and his dragon stretched full-length and wings. Plo swung on before he stood up, so that they could go back to their sweep. 

"Bye!" he clearly heard the small child call out as loud as she could as they sprang into the sky.

::Fearless one will be good,:: Jageth told Plo in the air.

::So she will,:: Plo agreed, hand stroking his dragon. ::You could have told me she'd come to you, though... saved me some searching.:: 

Jageth gave him a wave of the most embarrassed feeling. ::I was asleep, mostly, because the rock was warm and the sun was perfect.::

Plo laughed, shaking his head, and petted Jageth again. ::Aah. Well, then. I am glad you had a pleasant nap with little Ahsoka.::

+++

"Another daughter, hmm?" Micah asked, as Plo rested against his weyrmate. 

"I do think so. Lissarkh could use the company, after all. She misses Bultar, now that our eldest daughter has flown off to Benden." Plo closed his eyes as Micah traced the edges of one of the deeper scars on his cheek. He was tired, as it had been a long day, but resting on the couch with is head in Micah's lap was more enticing than their bed.

"I look forward to meeting her, my heart." Micah was amused. He rode brown, and Plo rode blue, yet they had matched in childhood, before the sands, and remained lifelong companions, even when they had been assigned to different Weyrs initially. Plo finally transferring to Ista had been a boon. That they sometimes raised the children they found for the Weyr was merely another eccentric quirk in the eyes of their leaders.

"So small but so fearless, Micah. Jageth never even noticed her curl up with him, because she felt so right to him."

Micah made an approving sound, even as he stroked his sleepy mate's face and neck. "Then she follows in the footsteps of her new sisters well," he said softly. "Sleep, love, until dinner. Lissarkh is still on chores for the meal anyway."

"Mmm, yes. I like this plan."


	3. He Will Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin is finally old enough to stand for Hatching.

_Fifth Pass, Turn 14_

This was only the third hatching since Anakin had reached ten Turns old, and the Weyrlingmaster had talked him out of standing for the other two, as if he Impressed then, his dragon would have too long to wait before they could join a Fighting Wing, because he would still be too young. Now, at a little more than twelve, it wouldn't be so long until they could fly. If any of the hatchlings chose him, anyway. They might not. He smoothed the sides of his white Candidate's robe uncertainly, the heat of the sands pouring up under his feet. 

Marieth, the senior queen, turned her golden head towards him, her eyes a steady green, and the rippling song of her voice stroked over his mind. ::Peace, young one. One of my sons will love you.:: 

::I -- thank you, Marieth,:: he answered, surprised. He could almost always hear the dragons' conversations, but it wasn't common that they spoke directly to him. Especially not the queens. He bowed to her, and tried, again, to relax. 

Marieth favored him with a fond glance, then concentrated on her children's growing unease, singing to them, encouraging them to escape the shell. 

Above the sands, Obi-Wan and Luminara watched. This clutch was Marieth's second, the first since that wild ride that had brought Obi-Wan and Luminara to ascendancy. Dooku and Jocasta had retired, nominally to Igen Weyr where the warmth was good for old, aching bones, but both knew the pair were often in the minor hold of their childhood companion, Sifo, now that they were no longer expected to ride every Fall.

To one side, never far from the weyrling that Qui-Gon had mentored to the position of Weyrleader, Qui-Gon also watched, mostly focused on Anakin. This could either help the boy, as a dragon would shield his rider, or be too overwhelming to bear.

"He'll do fine," Obi-Wan told the older bronze rider, not even needing to look to know he was fretting.

"Taking up mind-reading, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked affectionately, as he shook his head. He could claim he wasn't worried, but he did try not to lie to the Weyrleader he was so very proud of. 

Plo, up from Ista, snorted in amusement from where he was sitting not far away. "Hah. As though he would need to, old friend." 

"Wears his thoughts more openly than a green," was Micah's opinion, grinning over at Qui-Gon. "I am so relieved our Lissarkh has opted to wait another year at least. I'm still emotional over Bultar's, and that was years ago."

"She was our eldest," Plo commented to that. "But it will be no less severe when our younger two meet their matches."

"I do _not_. Two?" Qui-Gon asked to get away from the protesting, not remembering this, "when did one of you find another one? What's this one like?" 

Bless them both for a distraction from worrying over Anakin as the first eggs started to split on the sands below. 

"Ahsoka's been with us for nearly three years now?" Micah asked, getting a nod from Plo. "And Plo found her, up in one of the holds that's cut in among the ancient basalt, a hold that sends directly to the healers, as they harvest the rare medicinals found up there."

"She's as bold as any bronze, fearless," Plo added. "Jageth had felt a Candidate, and as I Searched the hold, the child had gone and found him napping. Curled up in the loop of his tail beside his flank and went right to sleep." He smiled fondly at the memory. "She's never learned to be shy with any dragon, and few people one on one."

Luminara chuckled softly. "That's... impressive, and audacious. I can't imagine a child like that _not_ Impressing, I have to admit." 

Qui-Gon nodded agreement with that, even as he wondered how he'd missed such a story the first time around. 

"Most likely, yes," Micah said proudly.

They all quieted as the dragon hum suddenly swelled and fell back, just in time for the first hatching, a dainty green that creeled her hunger to one and all before planting her entire snout in the belly of a sturdy youth near her.

That meant Qui-Gon's eyes riveted on Anakin, as the pop and crack of eggs said this would be a speedy Impression.

::He will Impress,:: Yeneth sent to his rider, from the watching ring of bronzes and browns.

::Yes, I think so too,:: Qui-Gon agreed, ::I just... am concerned for him.:: 

::I know,:: Yeneth replied, and love washed down the bond between them. 

Anakin watched around him as another green, then a brown, hatched and made straight for the Candidates they wanted. Then an egg on the other side of the ring cracked, a bronze head with blue eyes heavily flecked with hunger-red lifted, looking around -- and Anakin felt something change and shift in his mind, the entire world changing. It was dizzying, shocking like the sparks that jumped from cloth on cold nights, almost painful in how good it was... and love filled him, from his own heart and the dragon's, pouring into and leaving him to -- 

::My name is Artoth,:: the hatchling told him, ::and I am _hungry_ , Anakin.:: 

"His name is Artoth!" Anakin called out, knowing it was tradition, but oh if he did not assuage that hunger soon he would faint. He scrambled around the ring, getting to his dragon. His dragon. "Come on, Artoth, this way," he coaxed, laying a hand on the bronze's neck and heading for the exit of the Hatching Ground.

"See? All begins well," Plo intoned at Qui-Gon.

"Oh do stay seated," Micah fussed at their age-mate. "You have to stay for the entire Hatching, or else you should have volunteered to be out there to help with the weyrlings."

Qui-Gon muttered something that Obi-Wan didn't catch, and planted himself in his seat, looking to see who else among Anakin's young friends would be joining them as riders. Obi-Wan shook his head a little, amused at the two of them managing his strong-willed (if he was being polite) mentor so aptly. 

+++

That he made his way to Anakin quickly after the Hatching was a given. Qui-Gon found the hatchlings and their new riders by the lake, being scrubbed or already drying from the quick bath to get the blood from their first meals and the goo of hatching off of them. 

Artoth and Anakin were in the drying phase, with Artoth sleepily moving limbs or tail as Anakin needed him to.

"Bronze Rider Anakin," Qui-Gon greeted, granting the boy his new rank formally, so that he could step up and take a cloth to help.

Anakin jumped, and he knew a ridiculous grin spread across his lips as he heard his finder and mentor call him that. It -- it made it real, and he looked up at Qui-Gon, exhausted but joyous. "Hi! This is Artoth, Rider Qui-Gon. He says hi, but we're really tired, so you have to take my word for it." 

Artoth turned his nearer heavily-blue eye towards him, half-covered by the inner eyelid, and nodded just a little. 

Qui-Gon gave a smile, and nodded once in respect to the new member of his extended family within the Weyrs. "Welcome, Artoth, and sleep. We'll get you dried up so the sun feels good for your nap." It would not do to let the damp linger between wing membranes or on hide that might be chilled by the afternoon breeze, not when all dragons deserved to be as warm as possible always, to combat later trips _between_. 

He took to the task, much easier at this size than full-grown, with vigor, so that Anakin would have a little time to rest before the dinner. He looked up, though, as Shmi came to join them, taking a break from the tasks of dinner preparation.

"Oh, Ani, he's such a fine, strong bronze," Shmi told her son adoringly.

"He is!" Anakin agreed, and turned from where he was still drying part of Artoth's hindquarters, and dropped the cloth to turn and wrap around her in a tight embrace. Unlike most of the weyr's children, he'd never broken the bond with his birth mother, but he had taken joyously to having so many people around that didn't see him as an unwanted burden or obstacle. "Hi, Mom! I -- I'm a rider, really! And it's quieter, now, Artoth's between me and all the others." 

Qui-Gon was so thankful to hear that part of it, as he lifted a limp wing to get it dry.

"That is very good, Ani," Shmi said warmly, hugging him back. She gave Qui-Gon a grateful look, knowing this was all possible because of him, and got back a half-shrug.

"I knew he belonged here with us," Qui-Gon told them. "This just cements that fact."

Shmi chuckled softly, shaking her head, and did not argue with the rider. 

Anakin hugged her again, tighter, and then let go. "I wasn't finished drying Artoth; I should finish that. He shouldn't be damp, he might catch cold or something. Thank you, Qui-Gon, for helping! I don't think I said." 

"He's nearly dry, and you are welcome. When a new rider has riding relatives, they often help the new weyrling in the first days," Qui-Gon said, remembering that long gone day when Dooku had formally addressed him as Rider, and aided him with pride.

If only the man had been able to understand that he had no interest in leading more than a wing, that pride might have remained.

"And you have all but adopted Anakin, so you aid him now," Shmi observed, unconcerned over the man's place in her son's life. They had their own quiet agreement, after all.

"So I have," Qui-Gon said warmly, settling in with Anakin to finish the task. Anakin beamed up at him, past his exhaustion, and when Artoth was dry, just curled up on the pallet at his side, asleep in moments.


	4. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan feels Anakin has to meet his potential by changing Weyrs.

_Fifth Pass, Turn 21_

Obi-Wan sighed as he slid free of his bronze's neck. This day had been coming for some time, but he needed to address it now, before it got too far. While there was nothing against dragons breeding closely set in stone, it was not preferred. With Artoth's skill in catching greens, and a very near miss with the junior queen a month prior, it was time to address it.

"Hello, the weyr," he called down the passage, even as he let Cerinth go find his mate. If his dragon was away, it might go better, as Artoth couldn't get upset.

"Weyrleader? Come in," Anakin called, startled but not displeased -- before he had Impressed, he'd spent quite a bit of time running errands for all the bronze riders, including the then-new Weyrleader. After his Impression, though, it had been years before he spent any time around the Weyrleader again. Joining the Fighting Wings had put him back into contact with Obi-Wan, and he considered the older man a good friend (and an absolutely amazing Weyrleader, no matter what Mace at Fort had to say). 

He snatched up a tunic and dragged it over his head as he headed to the front chamber of his weyr to meet him, smiling... and then something in Obi-Wan's posture stilled him. "What is it?" Riding Second for him had let Anakin learn to read him like a well-worn hide.

Obi-Wan rubbed his face, then sighed again. "You are always so perceptive, Anakin." He came closer and gripped his young friend's shoulder. "You are an excellent wingleader, Anakin. And, even as Qui-Gon gave me extra attention to see that I flew as high as I could reach, I have tried to do the same by you," he began.

Anakin leaned a little into the grasp, smiling at the praise, but something in his Weyrleader's tone told him that whatever the rest of this was, he wasn't going to like it nearly as well. None of his riders, or their dragons, had complained to him about anything, and Dairoth had sulked that Artoth _hadn't_ caught her but that wasn't anything he could change... 

"I've always been grateful," he said, when Obi-Wan paused, trying to figure out what this was. 

"You have all the potential to be a Weyrleader, Anakin," Obi-Wan told him. "But… Marieth is a young queen, with enough years to possibly last the Pass, or close to it. While there's no strict rule against clutching among close dragons, it's frowned upon.

"And, personally, I'd rather you not hold yourself or Artoth back by not being present when the senior queen flies, such as some riders would do, in order to remain at the Weyr of their choice." He looked into Anakin's eyes with all of the ways this was cutting him personally on display. "I think you should transfer with your wing, part of a bloodline swap, to a Weyr with an older senior queen, so you can rise to your full potential."

Weyrleader. 

The word echoed in Anakin's mind, his thoughts chasing themselves in circles. He'd never even considered that, because Obi-Wan was his Weyrleader, and Telgar was his home. But Obi-Wan was right, Marieth would be senior queen for a long time... and she was Artoth's dam. That wasn't a good idea, and they knew it. He'd just thought -- yeah, exactly that. That he'd go elsewhere when Marieth was going to fly. Obi-Wan didn't think he should? 

That made his head tilt a little, as Obi-Wan kept speaking, unfolding what he thought should happen... with his blue eyes darkened by upset and distress, but his tone never changing from steadily resolute. Anakin closed his hand around Obi-Wan's shoulder, the alien thought of leaving Telgar _not_ one that pleased him... but the Weyrleader had to think of the Weyr first, and the dragons foremost in that. 

::Rider?:: Artoth questioned, and Anakin sent reassurance and love to him, strongly as he could, before any of the other dragons could be pulled into his distress. 

::It's all right, Artoth, we're all right.:: 

::No you're not. ...leave? Why?! ...oh. To be _the_ bronze,:: Artoth sent, his thought flavored with a contemplative pleasure, and then drew away again. Anakin took a deep breath, and looked at Obi-Wan again. "Sorry, Artoth poked his nose in. I -- you really think so?" 

Obi-Wan nodded once. "I think you stand a very good chance of it, Anakin. Artoth is a smart, strong bronze, you lead well, your riders respect you, and you have that extra little bit to give even more cohesion to the fighting wings.

"It would be an absolute shame to not free you up to try," Obi-Wan concluded.

Anakin stared at him, taking another long breath. "That... I -- wow. Just a second, all right?" 

He raked his off hand through his hair, short nails digging into his scalp to clear his head, as he contemplated the idea. There'd only been one other bronze in Marieth's clutch, and Ferus was a steady, solid wingsecond in Qui-Gon's wing. If he left, with his wing, Artoth would have the chance to really prove his skill, and he -- 

\-- did he trust himself, no older than he was, with the lives of not just his wing, but an entire Weyr? 

::You would do well, if it happened,:: Artoth said firmly, suddenly present again. ::You learn well and lead well.::

He laughed, and looked at Obi-Wan. "Artoth agrees with you." 

"Because your bronze is as sensible as you can be," Obi-Wan said, relaxing a bit. "Think about it. I'm only pressing now because Marieth should rise in the next few months… and I hear both Igen and Ista are expecting to throw open their next flights within the next six months. Both elder queens have been off cycle for two mating cycles, unlike Benden, who only deviated on one so far."

"I'm not going to Igen," Anakin said instantly, shaking his head. He was well aware the old Weyrleader had moved to Igen, and the old man had never liked him at all. Attempting to lead a weyr that included Dooku would be an un-ending source of trouble. "Ista, though... maybe.

"We'll think about it," he promised, and leaned into Obi-Wan's hand again. 

Mom was completely safe in the Weyr, with or without him, thriving as the Headwoman's right hand, and he'd heard good things about Ista. 

"Do… and know that you have my support on whatever you choose." Obi-Wan then indicated the couch. "Though I can tell you a good bit about Ista; I visited there often when I was young, because of Qui-Gon's friendship with Micah and Plo."

"Thank you," Anakin nodded and moved towards the couch, more than willing to sit and talk, now that they'd gotten the unsettling stuff out of the way. "That sounds good," he agreed, dropping into his favorite end of it. "So what's the first thing you notice?" 

Obi-Wan settled to share his fond memories, from when he had been filling in as wingsecond to Qui-Gon, from joint flights with Ista over Nerat, and other moments that had brought him to the island or let him interact with the Istan riders.

+++

Weyrwoman Areen gave Zaibeth a fond scratching along one of her ridges before she focused on the young bronze rider joining her. That he was trying so hard not to look like he was staring at young Padmé nearby did him no harm in Areen's opinion. After all, the young man was staring at the woman, not the dragon, and there was nothing but admiration in his eyes.

"Pardon," Anakin said as he realized she was focused on him now. "I was told Weyrleader Tera was out on a sweep, but I wanted to come ahead, and see if today would be a good day for me to bring my wing. I know you have Fall tomorrow, Weyrwoman, which is why I thought to ask.

"As we are supposed to be trading places with a weyrling wing, I thought maybe it would be a good idea to move the trade up a little?"

Areen thought that was good initiative, but she knew Telgar had just been in Fall a few days prior. "We thought to wait until after, to give your wing more rest."

Anakin ducked his head with a faint smile. "Yes, Weyrwoman, but we talked it over, and since none of us have any singes or injuries, we'd like to get settled in under Weyrleader Tera's direction right away."

Areen gave him a smile for that. "Very well. Give me a moment." She relayed the request through Zaibeth to Nenreth, Tera's bronze, and got back an answer swiftly. "My weyrmate says, and I quote, 'if they are that eager, by all means'."

Anakin grinned brightly. "I'll relay that to my second, and they'll be here shortly," he told her.

"Tera is on his way back, so you can speak to him directly in a few minutes, and see to where your wing is to live." Areen turned back to her queen, a dismissal, but listened to see what the bronze rider did. From the sound of the wherhide, he did not, as some opportunistic riders might have, go approach Padmé, but instead went back to his dragon.

She was betting, however, that his head had turned that way at least a little.

+++

Anakin flopped onto the couch in his wingsecond's new weyr, throwing his forearm over his eyes. "Coric," he said, to the brown rider -- two years older than he was, and Impressed the hatching before his -- who'd been an unwavering support for years, "I think I'm doomed." 

"Really? We move to the Weyr that is the smallest, with the least amount of coverage unless a fishing fleet is out, and you think we're doomed? Is it the sand?" Coric asked.

"I didn't say we were," Anakin said, moving his arm to glare at his second, "I said _I_ was. And no it's not the sharding _sand_ , thank you so much for reminding me." The season they'd been in Igen, his mother and he, had been one of the worst of his life. "It's... one of the junior Weyrwomen. The Weyrwoman didn't introduce me, but it -- she's -- she's so beautiful it hurts." 

"Oh. In that case, it is completely your problem," Coric teased him lightly. "Couldn't get so lucky as to be the one people think will rise first?" he added after a moment's thought. "Oh, wait, you weren't introduced."

"No," Anakin agreed, sighing, "I wasn't... but no, there's no way I could get that lucky, Cor. And I just know I'm going to stick my entire leg in my mouth when we _are_ introduced... she smiled like the sun coming up, and she's got absolutely amazing dark eyes, and she's --"

Coric raised a hand, groaning a little, but his eyes danced merrily. "You sound as bad as any male green rider swooning over a bronze, oh mighty wingleader," he said. "Look, we're going to be living in her Weyr; you'll just have to act natural."

Anakin growled, and felt around for something to throw at his second. He found nothing, and sighed. "I _feel_ about that foolish, too. Oh, sure, 'just act natural', Coric, do you remember where that's gotten us a couple of times?" 

Coric snorted. "Weyrleader Obi-Wan did have a bit of a time settling Lemos down after you told that one Warder where he could stick his concerns…." The wingsecond smiled brightly. "So you just do your usual wingleader stuff, and settle into that side of life before you go about getting to know her."

"Well he was being a prick," Anakin muttered, but he smiled at the memory, and Coric's usual good sense. "Thanks, Cor. I -- yeah. _That_ I know how to do." 

"So, want the run-down on the other wingleaders? Been chatting with the weyrhealer -- he rides brown, by the way -- and getting an idea of the shape of things," Coric said, pushing the matter of the woman out of his head, and helping Anakin focus on the important things. 

"Yes, please," Anakin agreed, sitting up to focus on his second and the facts of the wings in their new Weyr, rather than the weyrwoman he hadn't even spoken to yet.


	5. Meet and Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin meets Padmé, as Artoth meets Sabeth.

Sabeth gave an appreciative look over the strong young bronze that had joined their Weyr, before focusing once more on her current meal of a wherry. He hunted well, not running the herds to frenzy before striking swiftly.

She did not protest when he dropped his meal less than a dragonlength from her, settling to eat there. She thought he would be a good addition to their Weyr, after the way he had flown in Fall. She did remember Nenreth's rider praising him.

Well outside the hunting grounds, Padmé smiled at her clever queen sizing up the new bronze. She had noticed the new wing filled in very well, helping close the gaps caused by the loss of several elderly riders and dragons over the last Turn to injuries, inability to fly full Fall, and other issues. She continued working on the Records, transcribing some of the older ones to new hide, enjoying the early morning's cooler breezes while Sabeth fed.

Anakin watched Artoth settle so close to one of the junior queens, still a little groggy, but Artoth had brought him down to the bowl before he went to catch his meal. ::Which queen are you flirting with, my heart?:: 

He could have asked for himself, of course, but he tried, very hard, _not_ to be that rude, especially with the queens. Some did not care for having another dragon's rider touch their minds, and he did not want to anger any of the queens. Especially not when he was more than half besotted with one of the riders. 

::Her name is Sabeth,:: Artoth replied, his thoughts full of pleasure in his meal and the pleasant lump developing in his belly. ::And her colors are lovely.:: 

::Yes, they are,:: Anakin agreed, for Sabeth was a beautiful shade of deep coppery gold. ::And her rider?:: 

::Is working on the musty hide-things,:: Artoth replied, ::in the sunlight by the entrance to the Lower Cavern.::

::Was that a hint?:: 

::Did you need one?:: Artoth turned blue eyes his direction for a moment.

Anakin shook his head, amused, and turned his steps that way. When he got close enough to see, it was to spot the junior weyrwoman from his first arrival to Ista, the one with long brown hair in braids. She was dressed in a sensible light skirt and a blouse to match, a bound hide book in front of her while she worked diligently on copying it to fresh hide, her attention mostly on the task.

A faint smile danced over her lips, though, something common to riders who had talkative dragons. 

Anakin did not try to touch the communal mind of the dragons, curious as he was, but he moved to where he could sit in her view (and _out_ of her light) before he pulled his carving knife from his belt and the comb he was slowly drawing out of a piece of wherry-bone (one thing they were never short of, that) until she hit a place in her copying she might stop to talk to him. 

Properly dressed hides for Records were too precious to risk to even the chance of starting her. 

Padmé kept at her task, aware of the other person, but appreciating that he'd been kind enough to not intrude. ::Sabeth, do you know who this is?:: she sent to her dragon, giving a the quick impression of the man to her lifelong partner. She'd only briefly looked up, seeing the dark blond hair, not cut quite as severely as many riders kept theirs and the tall but spare cut of his frame. In casual weyr clothes, there were neither shoulder knots or sleeve braids to show color and rank.

::The new rider,:: Sabeth replied, flicking back the sense that the rider matched her dining partner.

::Oh.::

Padmé dug in the point for marking the end of a passage, and then set her stylus down and stretched out first her hands and then her arms, before straightening and officially taking in the man.

"Hello," she said pleasantly. "You're from Telgar, aren't you?"

Anakin had heard the stylus settle on the table, and he separated knife from bone before she spoke. Her voice hit him just as much as his first sight of her had, and he took a moment's deep breath. "Yes," he agreed, reminding himself that he wasn't, actually, the center of any world but Artoth's, and any weyrwoman had hundreds of riders to keep track of, "weyrwoman. I'm Anakin, Artoth's rider. My duty to your queen, on a beautiful morning." 

Okay, not bad, he'd made it through at least saying hello without leg in mouth... 

She smiled brightly at him. "Hello, Anakin. And a fine morning to your Artoth, as well. Sabeth thinks he eats neatly, and appreciates that." She then looked up and around. "It will be hot soon enough, but right now, it is perfect for tasks needing bright light." She glanced at what he was working on. "You'll be in fine company, if you are a carver. There's a fish we receive tithe on that leaves bones big enough for carving too."

"I've heard of those," Anakin said, "the big fish, I mean, but they're not tithed to Telgar, except already boned out and brined. The carving keeps my hands busy, and sometimes my brain, too. Pardon, weyrwoman, but I haven't been granted your name?" 

"Oh!" She blushed a little, glancing down. "I'm sorry; I made an assumption, given that your wing was transferred in after the announcement Weyrwoman Areen made. My name is Padmé," she told him. "And I apologize, for the assumption that you would know that once I said my dragon's name."

"It's all right," Anakin replied, shaking his head as the 'the announcement' bounced around in the back of his mind. There was always some knowledge of who the next queen to rise would be, no matter how much they bowed to chance, and if that was truly what she'd meant... maybe... no, he couldn't be that lucky. "Padmé. I haven't actually been introduced to any of the queen riders but Weyrwoman Areen... maybe on purpose? But I'm very glad to meet you." 

"Less on purpose and more that we tend to be very busy before a Fall, and the day after is spent with the injured or grieving here at Ista," Padmé said. "Fortunately, yesterday saw little of the latter, thank you, other than the usual reminders of those gone _between_ for all time.

"Weyrleader Tera gave credit to your wing for the light injuries."

"I know," Anakin said, and he was proud of the recognition, and more, the truth of it. They'd made up a third of the leading edge, one of the most dangerous positions -- and one where his gift could do the most good in coordination, "but he was gracious enough to let me have the spot I work best from. 

"Plus, flying with a new wing in play always has everyone on their best form." 

He was confident, Padmé noted, chalking that up as a positive trait. Not arrogant, but aware of his strengths and capable of using them for the Weyr… did he know his flaws as well? She'd learn over time.

"I look forward to seeing how you to integrate into Ista," she said, keeping it neutral. She did not dare influence Sabeth one way or another, not when many of the bronzes were doing all they could to gain her attention, and their riders tended to flock to her.

Rex was about the only one she much cared for the company of these days, as everyone counted the weeks until Sabeth was likely to rise. He had no care for anything other than the safety and welfare of his wing, the Weyr, and Pern.

Anakin grinned at her. "I am, too. It's interesting, being in a Weyr where the older riders don't have dozens of memories of you as a weyrbrat -- I sort of like it. Artoth's pleased, too, to have new grounds and new dragons to meet, too." 

She kept her smile on him for that. "I imagine it is different. I know I had a long adjustment. I came from Nerat, so the weather did not affect me, but I'd been a fosterling at the hold proper when the Search happened. To go from training for being a pretty ornament on a Holder's arm to actually being expected to learn how to lead was so refreshing!"

"Anyone that can ride gold would never be just an ornament," Anakin replied, shaking his head, "no matter what some Holders may think. Queens are picky, and determined." 

Padmé laughed brightly at that. "My uncle would say the same, I think. He wished me to make a good match, and influence them. I think he has aspirations of being a more major Holder than he is, to be honest."

"Your uncle?" Anakin asked, curious. He knew Mom had had other family, but she didn't talk about any of them, never had. And most riders were pretty separate from their families, just from being riders. 

"Holder Sheev, holds one of the fruit tree holds in the interior of Nerat," Padmé said. "He arranged for my fostering when he noted I had a head for running things."

"Which put you where the Weyr could Search you," Anakin said, smiling, as he filed away that bit of information. "Luckily for everyone. I was nine, when they found me, but no one let me on the sands until twelve... what about you?" 

"It's been almost six years since I Impressed," Padmé said. "I was only in the Weyr three months before the Hatching. But I was already fourteen turns when I stood as a Candidate." She smiled in memory, as so many riders did, when reminded of their Impression. "I understand the wish to have the Candidates be at least fourteen. We have one here in the Weyr, raised here, who has been told firmly she must wait another year. There will be other clutches, even if they aren't from Zaibeth… though I would not be surprised if the senior queen doesn't clutch at least once more even after retirement. Weyrwoman Areen is very active and healthy, like her queen."

He nodded at that, shaking his head as he remembered the kid he'd been, how eager and determined. "It makes a lot of sense," he agreed, "I mean, I didn't think so at the time, but being older wouldn't have been such a bad thing. Artoth sort of finished growing up before I did --" he paused, shaking his head as Artoth pointed out that his rider wasn't actually finished growing up yet, and looked at Padmé apologetically. "Sorry, he thinks he's a comedian. 

"And the Weyrwoman is... definitely impressive." 

"She's been wonderful to me," Padmé said. "She's weyrbred, and grew up in the Interval, so she's taught me how life can be, while teaching me all the way it is now." She then giggled a little. "And they do do that, make comments at just the wrong moment. Or the right one, but others might not think so."

"I'm glad she has... and oh, don't I know it," Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. "Before Artoth chose me, it was a constant hum of quips and asides and gossip... I mean, greens are _always_ talking, not that bronzes are any better but there's at least fewer of them." 

Padmé tipped her head to one side, her eyes widening. "Oh! I didn't realize you were _that_ bronze rider. I've never heard your proper name, or your dragon's. But I have heard of the rider who hears all dragons, and that he rode bronze."

"I'd be more surprised if you hadn't," Anakin said, wry and amused, as his fingers pushed into the hair at the back of his neck (he thought he'd outgrown that habit, blast it), "and yeah... that's me. Artoth makes it easier than it was before, he... insulates me. But it does make keeping a wing together in Fall a little easier." 

Padmé nodded shrewdly. "Then Ista is very fortunate to have you here, Anakin." She then sighed. "I should get back on task; it will soon be too hot to be out here where the light is best."

"Right," Anakin replied, shaking his head, "I wanted to meet you, but I really didn't mean to interfere with your work on the Records. Mind if I stay here?" 

"I don't mind," she told him, before settling back to her task. It would let her see him work too, and get a better feel for his presence. After all, she planned to help Sabeth choose the best bronze, and rider, for the future of the Weyr.


	6. Accidents Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She isn't trying! She knows she's not supposed to be on the Sands this time!

Fives was enjoying being very much in the favor of his wingleader currently. Sharing the same space at the Hatching was giving him a better appreciation of how Rex evaluated things. He'd paid attention as Rex evaluated all of the Candidates he knew, and was trying to keep track on if Rex had been right on the colors they'd Impress.

Rex, however, was focused on the queen egg, fully in the process of cracking, so he missed the excitement surrounding an egg that was closer to the entrance from the Lower Caverns. Fives turned his attention that way; the egg had been on the small side, and most agreed it would be a green, if it hatched at all. As the number of eggs available dwindled, there was a pack of candidates zeroing in on the egg.

Something told Fives this was going to be an issue, and he didn't ignore his instincts. Even if it meant missing out who Impressed Zaibeth's last (probably) queen daughter, he'd stay focused.

+++

Ahsoka wasn't terribly distressed at missing this Impression. Really. She knew there would be other clutches. She was thirteen, but very small for her age, and a dragon would be a fighting dragon between two and three turns old. Plo said if she'd been Found during Interval, she'd have started going out on the Sands at eleven turns or so, but during a Pass, they needed more mature riders.

She could wait another turn, maybe even two. She was beloved by both her foster-fathers' dragons, and few dragons minded her helping with their scrubbing. 

Still, she had decided to watch the Hatching from the tunnel that led down into the caverns, rather than join the throng of people in the stands. She was cheering her friends along, and the newcomers found on Search, as the eggs broke and pairings happened.

She felt restless, though, and her skin itched as if she were too hot and confined. She leaned against the rock of the opening, trying to push it down, but her eyes kept straying to the nearest egg, noticing how wobbly it was, yet no cracks were really showing. There were boys and a couple of girls moving toward it, so the dragon would be okay.

Maybe.

She shifted her stance, tried to shake off the bad feeling, as her gaze fixated on the egg. Without even being aware of it, she unfolded her arms from around herself, spreading them wide, and the egg seemed to fly apart as the hatchling unfurled still wet wings with enough force to shatter the shell.

Not green, like everyone had guessed, Ahsoka noticed, but a rich, dark bronze that glinted with the particular sheen no brown could approach.

He was ignoring the candidates. His head was swinging to look at her, and she knew.

"No, not supposed to be my turn!" she protested, afraid of being in trouble.

::Do you not want me?:: the tiniest bronze ever to hatch from Ista asked.

That was too much for the girl who had grown up surrounded by dragons, and she all but flew across the sands to get her arms around his neck. ::I do, I do… oh I do!::

::I am hungry,:: he pointed out after enduring the hug from his rider. ::I am Riloth, and you are my rider.::

Ahsoka smiled, tears she hadn't realized she had drying on her cheeks as she called out the name aloud, and guided her lifelong partner off the sands.

+++

"Oh my Wingleader," Fives said, as the girl catapulted across the sands to reach the very small bronze. "Is that who I think it is?" he asked once Rex was looking, even though he knew damned well it was. It was too far away to see the vitiligo but Ahsoka always wore her hair in puffs on top and long braids down, usually with blue ribbons worked in, like now, and no one ever copied her.

"Shards and _fog_ ," Rex swore, only barely loud enough to keep from reaching past his wing rider's ears, "that's Ahsoka!" 

Not that Fives wasn't well aware, but he _had_ asked, so Rex answered him. He could see, even from here, that the girl was in Hatching finery as she should be, but... she must have been down in the Lower Cavern entrance. Since she obviously hadn't come from the stands side -- she'd have had to cross everyone's vision. "Fall and rain this is going to be a mess..." 

He liked the cheerful little scamp of a weyrbrat, but she was so young, and depending on who the next Weyrleader became... not everyone coped well with the girls and women that rode bronze. Rex happened to find it idiotic, but the mentality was still around. 

"Yeah, it will be, but I don't want to tangle with her fathers over it!" Fives said, discreetly pointing to where the pair, both a generation younger than the retiring Weyrleaders, were belatedly realizing their youngest had Impressed, raising up a cheer for her.

"You," Rex pointed out, mostly affectionately, "ride green. You won't be -- at least, not for a few years. How this is going to go with the current or new Weyrleaders... may be something else." 

Fives leaned into him, their shoulders pressing together for a long moment. "If everyone's right about the queen likely to rise first, then… 'Soka will have her rider in her corner? I mean, weyrwoman Padmé strikes me as fair, and it's obvious she wasn't trying for an egg!"

"I've never had any problems with her," Rex had to agree. "So at least there's that. And her fathers are riders with a lot of influence in the Weyr, too." 

Besides that, it wasn't as though most of them didn't know and like her, but it still wasn't going to be easy for her. 

Torrenth made an amused noise in the back of his mind. ::You worry too much, rider. Riloth and the little one will be fine.:: 

::Easy for you to say,:: Rex grumbled at his dragon, but he'd wait until the next day and the wingleader meeting for it to come up.

+++

Hatchings were the one time when Anakin was still nearly overwhelmed, as the new dragons didn't yet know how to speak at anything less than full volume, so normally -- despite that he loved the festivities -- he watched the actual hatching from Artoth's neck, where physical distance and skin contact with his bronze kept him more defended from the onslaught. 

Artoth never minded lending him his eyes to see down to the event, and also normally provided a running commentary. 

::Oh... this sounds interesting,:: Artoth said, ::that one isn't a Candidate because they thought she was too young... and the dragon is bronze, like me!:: 

::Yeah?:: Anakin asked, looking through multi-faceted eyes down and down at a little dark girl with her arms around an almost equally-dark bronze. She did look tiny... but then, he probably had, too. Shards, he'd only been a kid.

::The very mated riders are hers,:: Artoth added, guiding Anakin's attention to the jubilant pair of older men Anakin dimly remembered from them visiting Qui-Gon a few times. ::What do you call it? Weyrbrat?::

::Yes,:: Anakin agreed. If the pair claimed her, then she was probably like him, Searched early and brought into the Weyr. He wondered why, but told himself he'd find out sooner or later. ::They look thrilled. I'm glad.::

The girl was disentangling from the dragon, and walking with that mix of jubilation and careful regard for her new partner that only the truly comfortable new riders ever managed. They exited, and Anakin realized that all of the eggs had cracked and paired off while he was taking in that bit. Artoth had managed to guard him from the rush of the dragons' euphoria at the end of a successful Hatching by drawing her to his attention.

::You sneaky dragon,:: he said, amused and affectionate, and reached to rub one of Artoth's head-knobs. ::Well... I'd probably better get down and go join the festivities.:

::Yes. And make sure you dance with _her_ rider,:: Artoth said, firmly, because he was besotted with the junior queen, much like his rider was for hers.

::Don't want much, do you?:: Anakin replied, laughing as he slid down. ::She'll be the most popular woman on the dancing grounds!:: 

::You can do it,:: Artoth encouraged, before waiting for Anakin to move far enough away to launch and leave the cavern. There was still sun, and he planned to go enjoy it while it lasted.


	7. Ascension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mating Flight has happened...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing explicit, just the aftermath of a sexual encounter, and some sensuality.

_Early Turn 22_

Padmé stretched, feeling far more sore, and definitely not alone… oh, that was the usual aftermath of a flight. She smiled without even opening her eyes, and curled back into the strong body wrapped around her. She had dim memories of blue eyes worshiping her when the clothing had given way to dragonlust. 

Out of all of Ista's bronze riders, Anakin would suit her just fine. He was fairly steady, willing to listen to the senior riders like Rex, and he had a way of making her feel like she was as much his desire as the leadership, maybe more.

::You are well-matched,:: Sabeth agreed, already rousing where she was entwined with Artoth.

A dragon-voice, not Artoth's but close, brought Anakin half-awake, and he made a quiet, questioning sound as he opened his eyes. Dark hair met his gaze, and Artoth's smug satisfaction rippled through him. 

The leadership Flight. Padmé. Oh shards he was _Weyrleader_ now?! He shoved the sudden worry off to the side, to deal with later, and focused on the absolutely wonderful part. Namely, _Padmé_. 

He shifted enough to dare to press a kiss to her shoulder, his arm holding her gently close. He wasn't sure if they would actually wind up being weyrmates in addition to the leading pair, but... oh, he hoped. 

"Morning," he said, actually managing the word instead of just a mumble. "And you, Sabeth." 

::Hello,:: Sabeth answered him, carefully toning her voice down for him. That she did told Padmé even more that her dragon approved of this match.

"Good morn," Padmé said, sighing a little at how nice it felt to have him there. He was built lean, and that suited her far more than the rider of Sabeth's first flight. Clovis… he'd transferred out with his wing that same year, as he had realized she didn't feel the same way as he did about being weyrmates.

Anakin smiled, feeling her content both in the way she lay close to him and Sabeth's easy mind almost as close as Artoth's. "You're well?" he asked, well aware that the aftermaths of mating flights could be a little rough on the green or gold's partner. And Sabeth's need had nearly utterly blanked his mind even before the pair had joined and all thought disappeared. 

"Fine, Anakin," Padmé said, finding his hand with hers, shifting enough to hold it, but without losing the warm wall of comfort behind her. "I admit I'd been avoiding those activities, to prevent influencing Sabeth too much," she added, "so I am a little sore, but nothing a good soak won't fix for both of us."

Was that enough of an invitation to him? Offering her heated bathing pool to him, with her, seemed like a good way to open the doors on potentially sharing a weyr.

Anakin curved his hand around hers, holding it lightly, as he cuddled against her, glad to hear the response... and then he blinked, looking hopefully at the back of her head. "...that sounds amazing, if you wouldn't mind company?" 

"Last time to use this one, probably," she said with a smile for his tone. "The Weyrwoman… Areen, oh shards, I'm …. later." She took a deep breath against that solid reminder she was now in charge of the entire Weyr. It wasn't as if Areen hadn't been grooming her! "Areen and I had already discussed that, if Thread wasn't due too soon, we should make the swap of quarters swiftly, to let the Weyr settle to the leadership."

Anakin laughed, shaking his head at what she hadn't said. "You sounded like what I was thinking earlier," he said, "but... yeah, later for that. I'll help you move, just let me know when to be there. 

"...there's only one problem with that bath plan," he said, his voice dry. "We have to leave the nice, warm furs." 

Padmé stretched along his body, then hissed. "Okay, I didn't even know that set of muscles got involved!" She laughed merrily. "The water is warm, and doesn't smell like sex."

That got Anakin to laugh, too, because she did have a point about the scent... but he sort of liked it, too, because it was her. "All right. I'm told I'm fairly good at massage, once we've soaked?" 

She moved to where she could see him, her face lit with pleasure at the idea. "I think that sounds wonderful, if you let me return the favor, before we see to moving."

He felt his heart stop for a moment at the sight of that smile, the gleam of pleasure in her eyes and lips, and he nodded, his tongue feeling stuck to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed a couple of times, trying to get his tongue un-stuck, and managed. "I'd have to be stupid to turn that down. Sure, thank you." 

She sized up his reactions, felt the solid support of her dragon, and leaned in, kissing him for the first time without the flight clouding her mind and instincts. It was just a small kiss, a brush against his lips, and then she pulled back to get out of the bed. "I'll even wash your back for you, if you get mine," she invited, leading the way to her washing room.

Shards, but she was beautiful, as solidly muscled as any rider in their Weyr, but curved in all the right places... he shook that off, pushed himself up out of the bed, and followed her. "Of course," he said, grinning (probably foolishly) at that she'd kissed him. 

+++ 

Rex was the glad the flight was done with; he'd let Torrenth fly, of course, but his heart hadn't been in it at all. Still, he was curious how Anakin was going to work out. Yes, there was the whole hearing all dragons thing as a benefit. However, the rider was young, like Padmé. That could go either way, in Rex's opinion, remembering the time Tera had been scored badly enough that his Second had led. 

That had not gone terribly well until Areen took the younger man aside and pointedly had words with him to get him over his ego.

Now it was the day after, with the leaders having moved. Rex did approve that the Weyrleader's bronze had stayed with the gold all day and night, and his sources among the Caverns said that the Weyrleader himself had remained with Padmé too. It could just be a trial period, or it could be an effort to show a united front. Either way, it did them credit in Rex's eyes.

Ima-Gundi, one of older Wingleaders, nodded to him across the Council table as he took a seat, and then there was a stir at the door and their new Weyrleader walked in. 

Anakin looked around, finding that only two of the Wingleaders had beaten him in -- good, he was early, but he'd been taught long ago that that was better than late -- and he nodded to them both. "Fair skies, Rex, Ima-Gundi. Are you both well this morning?" 

"Indeed," Ima-Gundi said with a nod. "Life feels as if it is in full motion once more."

"Good thing about leadership flights, that way," Rex said, giving his own nod to the young man. In the months since the transfer, he'd come to respect Anakin's wing-leading; was it going to translate well to Weyr-leading?

"You're not wrong there," Anakin agreed, "I hadn't realized how unsettling it could be to be in a Weyr that was between senior queens. Everything in the Weyr was still new to me when Marieth flew." 

Two more of the Wingleaders came in, Saras and Appo, and he greeted both of them with honest well-wishes. They were good, skilled riders, Appo just about his own age, and he saw no signs of leftover frustration in either of them -- much to his relief. 

Appo walked over to Rex's side of the table, settling beside him, while Saras joined Ima-Gundi on his. As other wingleaders came in, they salted away on either side, with more of the younger ones falling in on Rex's side of the table, and the elders to Ima-Gundi's. That, Anakin realized, had been the pattern since he arrived, and Tera had seemed to parcel out duties along the lines of Rex's side getting the physical work, and Ima-Gundi's handling diplomatic or ferrying duties. 

Both sides of the table had been content with it then, as part of the reverence to the older riders that was Weyr culture. Rex wasn't all that much younger than some on the elder side of the table, but he carried himself strongly, and was distantly related to many riders, including Appo, Anakin had learned in his months here.

He had also, when sharing dinner with Padmé, learned that Rex was the only bronze rider outside of himself that she would have been truly content with on a personal level. And that, she had amended, had been as friends, not mates.

"Good morning, everyone," he said once the last of the wingleaders had come in and shut the door behind him before taking a seat. "Are all of you well, and your dragons?" 

Sometimes, he knew, the bronzes who had not caught the gold or green being chased slumped into apathy or depression for a couple of days, until they forgot it, and he hoped that wasn't the case here. 

Saras looked around, then spoke up, a half-upturn of his mouth when he did. "Curious, most of us. But well. We're all dragonriders to the core; the dragons choose."

Rex marked Saras as one of the ones that had been hoping to win the leadership in his own mind, but kept his face neutral. Most bronze riders had ambition; it was why they rode bronze. But sometimes, ambition turned wrongly, and could be worse than a tunnel snake.

"New changes can be rough, Weyrleader," and Rex stressed the word just slightly, "but they can bring good things. You've worked well in our Weyr so far, and I have no doubt the safety of the dragons, and the welfare of Pern will be under all of your decisions."

"Thanks, Rex," Anakin replied, appreciating the blatant support, "I mean to live up to that. Speaking of changes, who of you most want to join -- or remain in -- the leading Flight?" He nodded at the riders who had led the wings of Tera's flight. "I don't want to change things for the fun of it, but I do need to build a Flight, here." 

"I believe," Ima-Gundi began, "That it might be wise for Rex, as a younger but experienced wingleader, to take my place." He inclined his head toward the other wingleader. "I would remain, but I believe this is the best point to reshuffle. I am unlikely to fly through the end of Pass, but Rex stands a better chance.

"And, if the rapport between you and young Padmé is sincere, Weyrleader, it means you will lead through the Pass, barring tragedy." Most of the Weyrs had had stable leaderships for decades, at least where the senior Queen's rider had liked the bronze's rider. It was what they were all used to.

"I would not want to take your place, but you do have a point. And you would be an admirable choice for second flight's lead," Rex agreed. 

Anakin dipped his head at the mention of the rapport between he and Padmé, forcing himself not to blush, and looked at Ima-Gundi. "I'm not going to argue, though I would be glad to fly with you. Since you're willing, Rex, I'll be glad to have you. And for my left and lower?" he asked, looking to the other riders. 

So far, so good, and he was glad Rex had been suggested by the elder rider to replace him -- it meant there'd be little protest from the other older riders.


	8. Partnership Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin needs a new wingsecond. The Weyrlings are graduating. Rex has a headache...

_Late Turn 23_

Rex had a headache.

They were flying nearly full wings in both second and third flight, but their first flight had taken a number of wing injuries in the last two Falls, some of which would be permanent disabilities. It wasn't anyone's fault; the winds and rain had been the wrong mix to drown the Thread, but just right for sweeping it right into a dragon's path suddenly. Damnable storms, he growled in his own mind. 

But, given that one of those permanently disabled dragons had belonged to Anakin's other wingsecond, Kitster, it meant that Anakin needed a solid bronze or brown replacement. And Rex knew they had a handful in the graduating weyrlings, but that meant Anakin needed to choose one that suited… and Ahsoka was in the mix.

She was, without a doubt, the most promising of the bronze riders coming out of training. And, with Micah's little brother having transferred to Benden, along with the eldest of the daughters they had adopted, Rex knew it would not be fair to transfer Ahsoka away from the elder pair. Not when the middle daughter had also left the Weyr to ride for Igen. It didn't help that Ahsoka, age fifteen turns, refused to let her youth hold her back, no matter that she was dwarfed by Riloth, now that he had his full growth and was no longer the tiniest bronze in existence.

With all of that in mind, Rex took his notes on the weyrlings, requests from Weyrs for new riders, and his own personal thoughts to his Weyrleader.

"Hey, Rex," Anakin greeted him, looking up over the riding straps he was carefully repairing, "...oh, shards, that's a lot of hide, what's on your mind?" 

Rex snorted. "Some are just messages from other Weyrs, looking for new blood. Some are my own notes," he said. "We've got to place the weyrlings, Anakin, and that means choosing for our own flight. You heard Kix's assessment on Kitster, after all."

"I did," Anakin agreed with a heavy sigh, "and Jaronth agrees -- when he's not whimpering. I hate it, but... they'd get hurt again, if he tried to push it after they recover. " 

Rex shook his head. "There's always the low-level wings," he said, sympathizing with rider and dragon on this. "There's five browns and bronzes not already on request from other Weyrs," he added. "I know you deserve an experienced rider to fill as second, but you might want to consider them first, to keep from upsetting other wing balances."

Anakin chuckled, corner of his mouth curving up. "Most of our experienced riders are happy where they are, and especially with the injuries, I don't want to pull anyone out. And I was riding second pretty young; I don't have any objections to a young second. Thinking about any of them in particular for the slot?" 

Rex hesitated. Yes, he did have a good idea of who, but actually saying it aloud was going to make the younger Leader think he'd taken leave of his senses. "Maybe you ought to look over the remarks I've written down about all of them," he decided. "Don't let me bias you with tone, when the notes are direct observations while they were on exercises under the Weyrlingmaster."

Anakin eyed him, curious about the half-evasion, then nodded. "All right," he agreed, shifting the straps away to reach out for the notes Rex held out. He opened the glow basket more, needing brighter light for the small hand Rex used, and started to read through. He'd heard the Weyrlingmaster's reports, too, and Rex's observations were unsurprisingly similar in most cases, but... 

He finished reading, looked back at a couple of them for a moment, and considered what he knew about his wingleader's judgement. "If I were inclined to gamble... I'd say you think I should take young Ahsoka on. Am I right?"

Rex rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. "I know she's young. And too small in some eyes. But she flies tight, knows the mood of her weyrling wing better than is usual for one so young, and … well, she's a bit like you.

"The reason she doesn't like to do things around so many people is because she's nearly as sensitive to people as a blue is to Candidates," Rex told him. "She will rise to the top; seems only right to start her now on showing others she can. And we won't get grumbles from her fathers about transferring all their family out."

"I'd rather not have either of them irritated with me," Anakin agreed with a laugh, before he eyed Rex thoughtfully. That... did not sound like fun, at all. "Dragons are one thing... being sensitive to people would probably drive me crazy. But if she's learned to use it to her wing's advantage, it would be a shame to lose it. 

"I'll talk to her, see if we can connect personally, and... we'll see. But of all of them, I think I agree with you." 

Rex breathed freely after that. "Glad to hear it, then. I thought I was going a bit crazy, but I kept coming back to her." He then held the other hides up. "Look over the transfer requests too? I'd like to see to reassigning those weyrlings this evening, and let the ones staying stew a bit on where they'll wind up."

"You're not crazy, you're innovative," Anakin said with a grin, and reached again, taking them. "Sure, since you've already done most of the work for me."

Rex shrugged; it was the least he could do.

+++

Ahsoka ran the soft bristle brush carefully down Riloth's tail, working the oil into all the spaces between the spine ridges. She'd watched a lot of her friends pack up earlier to go to their new weyrs. The ones like her that were staying were still in the barracks, left in limbo. At least she knew she'd still be close to her fathers, but she really wanted to know whose wing she'd start in.

And it would just be a start! A lot of bronze riders were older, and eventually she'd have her own wing, to let Riloth show how strong and brave he was! 

Anakin walked into the barracks, pleased that most of the others were out, and said softly, "Rider Ahsoka, Riloth, good afternoon." 

Ahsoka straightened suddenly, having actually been surprised by his approach, too lost in her worry over letting Riloth shine, both physically and in his future as a leader, to pay attention. She turned to look at him, ducking her head a little to see it was the actual Weyrleader addressing her. 

"Afternoon, Weyrleader," she said.

::Hello,:: Riloth said, and his voice was soft, as if accustomed to moderating it from the bugle some bronzes could be.

Anakin smiled in pleasure at Riloth's willingness to reach out directly, rather than just let his rider speak for them, but focused on the girl. "You look good today, Riloth. I'm curious, are you glad to be staying, or disappointed you're not going to be seeing new skies?" 

Ahsoka grinned, and Riloth swung his head around to view them directly with an expression that was the draconic equivalent. "Glad, Weyrleader. This is _home_ and has been for so long. I've seen other Weyrs, and none of them feel quite like here." She put the brush back in the pail, rather than fiddle with it while her Leader was talking to her. ::I'll finish your oil when he goes,:: she promised her dragon.

::I know you will. Listening to the Leader is right. My oil will wait,:: Riloth said to reassure her.

Anakin nodded, pleased -- he wouldn't have considered Rex's idea if she was unhappy about remaining, but that blatant happiness was a very good sign. "I'm glad to hear it. The bronzes generally think well of Riloth, and I would hate to see that stifled by any unhappiness. 

"Tell me a little bit about yourself, Ahsoka -- you're a new fighting bronze rider; I'd like to get to know you." 

Ahsoka pointed to the bench nearby for them to sit, and wiped her hands on the nearest cleaning hide. "Not much to say, Weyrleader. I grew up here -- well, I came when I was three, but I don't really remember much of my time in High Crop Hold. Both my older sisters, Lissarkh and Bultar, ride green, for Igen and Benden. 

"I wasn't supposed to be on the Sands at Riloth's Hatching, and I wasn't! I just was watching from the spot the Candidates come through, so I could be out of the crowds. And it was a good thing too, because Riloth was a little bit small and needed encouragement to break the egg." She looked adoringly at her bronze, whose eyes whirled blue-green right back at her. "I didn't know I was, really, but when I pushed my arms out in reaction to the too-small space, he spread his wings … not sure how we matched before the shell broke, but we did."

Anakin blinked, startled, but nodded. "I was here for that hatching, but new dragons are... really loud. So I tend to stick with Artoth, and let him show me. I heard all of the hatchlings before he hatched at ours, but... they weren't the _right_ voice. 

"I've never heard of a match before Hatching, but you're a good pair, so I'm pleased it went that way." He paused for a moment, then asked, curious, "Do you do any craft work, when there's idle time, or music? I carve -- it keeps my hands out of trouble." 

Ahsoka snickered at that, then shrugged. "I make knots for anyone who asks? I'm good at braiding, so I make lashing and belts too," she said, before flicking both of her ribbon-braided plaits hanging down, and the elaborate blue and white ribbons around the puffs of hair on top of her head. "I like braiding things."

Anakin smiled at the comment, and nodded. He'd been trying to make her laugh, and was pleased he'd succeeded. "Good skill to have, for a rider." 

He probably should talk to her longer, ask about her thoughts on all of the training she'd been through... but he had a good feeling about her. "We've been discussing where to place you," he said, "and I've decided. You'll need to braid yourself a Wingsecond's knot... for the leading Wing." 

Ahsoka's mouth dropped open for a long moment, then she closed it, blinked, and looked at Riloth. That… that fit his ability perfectly, and she couldn't have been happier to hear it.

Once she had processed it that far, she questioned her dragon. ::Will that be alright for you, Ri?::

::You think it is good. I will fly well; I always do, no matter where.:: Riloth had supreme confidence in his ability, and in his rider.

Ahsoka looked at Anakin then, putting on a sober expression. "Thank you, Weyrleader. Riloth and I will do our best for the wing."

"If I had any doubt of that," Anakin replied, "I wouldn't have made the offer. But Jaronth is never going to recover fully, and I prefer to pull in young talent. I won't lie to you, this may make you some trouble. But if it does, and Artoth and I don't know about it immediately, don't try to deal with it on your own. I picked you; if they have a problem with that, they have a problem with _me_. Understand?" 

Ahsoka's jaw firmed, and her shoulders squared… then she nodded. "I won't handle it on my own," she said aloud, too used to her parents knowing she had to make the promise out loud to keep it fully. "I'll prove they shouldn't have an issue with it, though," she added, because she never gave less than all of her ability to anything.

Anakin nodded, reaching to squeeze her shoulder. "Good. Welcome to the wing. We'll make all of the placement announcements tonight at dinner and after, I'll introduce you to our wingmates." 

Ahsoka smiled, then nodded, liking the feel of him now that she had interacted with him, even as she promised herself she would not fail him or Riloth in this.

The future was wide open, and this was the best start she could hope for!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For your further entertainment, within the future of this universe (but unwritten):
> 
> 1\. Bly rides green at Benden. Kit rides blue and Aayla rides bronze and all three are perfectly happy no matter which dragon flies Bly's green.  
> 2\. Barriss is the daughter of Luminara at Telgar, from an earlier partnership than the one she has with Obi-Wan. Tired of being "The Weyrwoman's Daughter", and a green-rider who also wishes to be a weyrhealer, she will transfer to Ista to study under Kix. Cue Ahsoka being as silly as Anakin about Padmé, at least initially.  
> 3\. Kaeden and Steela are holders somewhere in Ista's flight territory. They like to flirt with Ahsoka, and it flusters her sometimes.
> 
> As always, thank you for the wonderful support!


End file.
